The debate about abortion
often
ignores
that
the
procedure is primarily an issue
of women’s health. Women
compose less than 25 percent
of the overall makeup of the
House
of
Representatives.
As such, the clear majority
of people voting on the issue
of abortion are not directly
affected by their votes. This
is particularly troubling given
much of this vote fell along
party lines — politicians were
likely more motivated by party
pandering than the wants and
needs of their constituencies.
Though this bill would not
affect the majority of women
getting
abortions
—
only
about 2 percent of abortions
are performed after 20 weeks
of pregnancy — the passing
of such a ban is an insidious
attempt to add to the stigma
regarding
women
who
get
abortions. It acts as a politically
sanctioned
mechanism
to
shame women who are making
decisions
based
on
their
individual
needs,
whether
they be medical, financial or
personal. Additionally, passing
introductory restrictions on
abortion sets a precedent, only
making it easier for stricter
laws to be passed against it in
the future.
And
as
many
have
pointed out, this bill would
disproportionately
hurt
women who are already in the
most
vulnerable
positions.
It
would
overwhelmingly
affect
low-income
women,
who might have no choice but
to wait longer than 20 weeks
as they save up money to pay
for the expensive procedure.
Furthermore, many late-term
abortions are performed for
medical reasons, such as saving
the life of the pregnant woman
or
terminating
pregnancies
that would result in stillbirth.
Therefore, rendering abortion
illegal after 20 weeks would
not eliminate these abortions
altogether. It would eliminate
safe ways for women to have
this procedure.
The bill also rests on the
tenet that fetuses can feel pain
at 20 weeks, thus claiming it
is unethical to abort them.
However, no sound scientific
evidence
currently
exists
to prove fetuses feel pain at
this
point
in
development.
Basing a policy decision on
the potential pain of a fetus is
also entirely hypocritical. By
solely considering the potential
pain of the fetus, the argument
neglects
the
emotional,
psychological
and
physical
pain the pregnant woman faces
in making this decision and
after the birth of the child.
Furthermore, the same party
tried many times this year to
repeal the Affordable Care
Act, which would perpetuate
the
pain
of
thousands
of
Americans by ridding them of
their health care.
Thus, this bill not only serves
to push aside women’s health
rights, but also showcases the
blatant disregard of definitive
science to further political
goals. Whereas conservative
politicians are quick to dismiss
climate
change
research
as
a
partisan
sham,
they
accept
carefully
selected,
unsubstantiated
medical
“studies” that support more
conservative
anti-abortion
ideals.
Endorsing
unclear
scientific ideas solely because
they align with their political
end goals leads to hypocritical
policy making, as well as
policymaking that endangers
public health.
Political
maneuvers
are
being used to further the
anti-abortion agenda with
little regard to the women
who are most affected by
these decisions. Those who
want a society focused more
around anti-abortion values
should instead be working to
create and enforce programs
that
make
it
easier
for
women and families to be
financially
and
medically
stable,
instead
of
taking
away the choices of women.
A
s
the
kid
of
psychoanalysts,
I’m
often asked whether my
parents analyzed me
while I was growing
up. And I don’t really
know
the
answer
to that question. I
used to immediately,
assuredly say, “No, of
course not,” thinking
that there was no
way my parents saw
me as they saw their
patients. I was their
youngest
kid,
their
baby, not some confused, sad, lost
person who paid for their service
twice a week.
But as I’ve grown up I’ve
recognized
that,
like
any
profession that our parents take
on, it leaks into the rest of their
lives. How could it not? Not
surprisingly, this primarily took
form in how my parents helped
me deal with my own problems.
They would have me simply talk
about what was going on as a way
of expressing myself, even when
things
seemed
unfathomably,
incomprehensibly confusing or
sad — I was terrible at math, I
was chubby and I was part of a
friend group that bullied other
kids. These, in addition to general
adolescent dramas, were some of
the things I’d be struggling with.
In other words, the idea was
to share my mind with the rest of
my family, to let them know what
I was thinking. If I couldn’t do
that, if things seemed too grave
or too murky, I was taught that
nothing really could be done to
help my cause.
And now, thinking back on my
childhood and the ways in which
it has leaked into my own psyche
today, I see, among all the beautiful
and
enriching
experiences
my
childhood
afforded
me,
that I struggle. I struggle to
maintain privacy, to maintain a
distance between myself and the
surrounding world, potentially
because of the emphasis that was
placed on sharing my mind at
home.
When I write things (plays,
stories,
columns,
essays),
I
immediately feel the need to share
what I’ve written. If I think the
thing is good, somehow that
doesn’t carry enough weight. I
need the affirmation of other
people. Often, this
stunts my writing
entirely,
since
before
the
thing
I’ve written has any
chance to breathe,
before I can form any
specific,
intimate
relationship
with
it, it is in somebody
else’s hands, it has
the marks of their
critiques on it. I
have endless writing projects
waiting for me in my Google
Drive, projects I know I’ll
never return to, because the
connection has been snapped
by my insistent sharing.
This idea of having a thought
and immediately needing to share
it — out of a sense that containing
it within me will not feed the
thought its sufficient affirmation,
that I am unable to affirm my
own thoughts separate from my
friends and family — extends not
just to the things I write, but to the
private fantasies I have.
I often imagine what could be
better about any given situation.
I imagine whose presence I
would love to have, where else I
would love to be. I imagine how
swell it would feel to have some
skill or trait that I don’t actually
have. I focus on the absences,
and so I pull away.
But I often share these fantasies
with my friends. And I often
do this without actually letting
others know that this is a fantasy;
instead, I’ve lied. And this has led
to the end of dear friendships, to
people I love feeling confused,
manipulated and, ultimately, to me
feeling profoundly terrible about
myself. Why couldn’t I just keep
my mouth shut? Why couldn’t
I just appreciate the beauty of
whatever I had in front of me?
I lie to share my fantasy. I
lie because my fantasy doesn’t
count if it’s just in me. It needs to
spread, take root in the minds of
others, too.
And over the past several
months, in an effort to gain more
of a sense of personal privacy,
I have begun to keep a journal.
I write in it every couple of
days. My entries wander, they
fantasize, they contradict. All of
this is OK, because it’s in a space
that only I have access to. My
journal represents me figuring
out aspects of myself before
anybody else has to.
In my journal, there are
words and ideas that come out
of me when I am in a meditative
state, when I’m not consciously
working to think or to formulate
thoughts, but instead simply
commenting on what I am seeing
as I saunter through my mind.
Like a toddler standing with a
clipboard and a piece of paper in a
fancy museum who is told, “don’t
worry about the technical jargon,
just draw what you see.”
And then, since I’ve been
abroad this semester, I have
been meditating for 10 minutes
per day. Pausing for a second,
momentarily getting out from
beneath the cutthroat hustle-
and-bustle
of
my
rattled
conscience. Taking a private
moment for myself, to focus on
my breath, my body. To establish
distance
between
me
and
everything else. Some distance is
certainly necessary.
This
lesson
lies
at
the
foundation of what it means
for me, as an individual, to be
growing up and becoming more
independent.
Understanding
the
potential
beauty
in
a
thought that no one else sees.
Realizing those thoughts do not
need affirmation from anybody
else in order to be full, to have
real meaning.
F
or
a
long
time,
I
thought
of
taking
a
gap year as a strange
thing — something only for
the
eccentric
or
routinely contrarian.
This
may
have
been a product of
my
upbringing:
Years at a college
preparatory
school
made it difficult to
imagine any option
beyond
immediate
enrollment into the
best college I could
get into. The option
of taking time off in between
didn’t even occur to me.
Of my class of 115 students,
only
two
chose
to
defer
attending a system of higher
education. As some of my
friends heard of their plans,
rumors quickly spread that they
weren’t “good” or “mature”
enough to go to college. Today,
I shudder at that ignorance. Far
from being naive, those two
made the most mature decision
an
18-year-old
can
make:
ignoring the voices of others to
hone in on their own.
At
the
University
of
Michigan, I’ve always felt a bit
uncomfortable seeing so many
of my peers having their lives
figured out already. It seems
as if every other student is pre-
something — pre-med, pre-law,
pre-engineering,
pre-finance.
I often feel as if I’m the only
one who’s still in the process
of discovering what path bests
suits me. At the same time,
however, I’m also a bit skeptical
of those who decide on a track
from a young age. Surely, a good
number of students must pick
predefined paths as the result
of certain pressures rather than
genuine interest.
The opportunity to take a
high school gap year may have
passed, but there remains an
equally intriguing alternative.
A post-college gap year should
appeal to both people like me as
well as those who think they’ve
already
figured
out
their
career paths. The options are
virtually
limitless
— solo backpacking,
teaching
English,
working odd jobs,
volunteering — it’s
just up to you to
figure
out
what
clicks best.
Wherever
students
choose
to go on their gap
year, they’ll likely
be
away
from
the
societal
and
parental
pressures that may have over-
exerted
their
influence
on
their path. Even for students
set on their plans, a gap year
could provide time to unwind
and
declutter
their
minds
from the relentless regiment
of
exams
and
homework,
especially if graduate school
is in the picture. As former
Yale
University
professor
William Deresiewicz put it in
his book “Excellent Sheep: The
Miseducation of the American
Elite,” “I can’t tell you the
number of students who did
that and (became) strikingly
different people — fuller, more
independent, more present in
their lives, and ready to cut
through not only the academic
but also the social bullshit.”
Skeptics of the gap year often
berate it as an opportunity
cost to develop a career or get
a leg up on graduate studies to
prepare you for professional
work. I see it another way —
think of the doctors or lawyers
who drain years of training,
hundreds of thousands in loans
and time away from friends
just to realize that a career in
medicine or law isn’t right for
them. Wouldn’t they rather
pay the “opportunity cost” of
a few months off then wake up
years later and wonder what
they’ve wasted all their time
and money on? They likely
won’t have the privilege of
a break during their career
— unpaid sabbatical leave is
offered by only 12 percent of
employers, according to the
Society for Human Resource
Management,
and
only
4
percent of employers offered
paid leave programs last year.
Our early twenties shouldn’t
be spent laying the foundation
for a cozy mid-life career. As
author and entrepreneur Gary
Vaynerchuk put it, “This is not
the time to play it practical and
safe. It is not the time to get
the job mom and dad wanted
or
the
time
to
maximize
your salary so that you can
buy a fat whip.” In other
words, don’t stress over being
“successful” the second you
graduate. Sure, parents might
get uncomfortable at cocktail
parties when the couple next
to them brags about their
daughter’s starting salary at
some Fortune 500 company,
while they’re explaining why
their child is off eating on
the floor with villagers in
Peru. Those lucky enough to
have parents who had such
experiences when they were
younger need not worry, but
students should never let their
fear of disappointing them (or
anyone else) stop them from
exploring the unconventional.
I do not mean to romanticize
the gap year — rarely is it a
magical elixir that spits you
out with purpose and passion.
Traveling alone and working
odd jobs can lead to bouts of
loneliness and a longing for
the safety of a routine. Yet, it is
often by enduring these trials
that they become valuable
experiences for those who
have done them.
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Tuesday, October 10, 2017
REBECCA LERNER
Managing Editor
420 Maynard St.
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
tothedaily@michigandaily.com
Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.
EMMA KINERY
Editor in Chief
ANNA POLUMBO-LEVY
and REBECCA TARNOPOL
Editorial Page Editors
Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s Editorial Board.
All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.
EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS
Take a gap year after graduation
LUKE JACOBS | COLUMN
Toward introspection
ISAIAH ZEAVIN-MOSS | COLUMN
Carolyn Ayaub
Megan Burns
Samantha Goldstein
Caitlin Heenan
Jeremy Kaplan
Sarah Khan
Anurima Kumar
Max Lubell
Lucas Maiman
Alexis Megdanoff
Madeline Nowicki
Anna Polumbo-Levy
Jason Rowland
Anu Roy-Chaudhury
Ali Safawi
Sarah Salman
Kevin Sweitzer
Rebecca Tarnopol
Stephanie Trierweiler
Ashley Zhang
Isaiah Zeavin-Moss can be reached
at izeavinm@umich.edu.
Luke Jacobs can be reached at
lejacobs@umich.edu.
FROM THE DAILY
Prioritize women’s health
W
ith the endorsement of President Donald Trump, the House
of Representatives recently passed a bill that criminalizes
abortions past 20 weeks of pregnancy. The bill introduces
fines and prison sentences of up to five years for those who perform the
procedures, allowing exceptions only in cases of rape or incest, or when
the health of the pregnant woman is threatened. The Michigan Daily
Editorial Board believes our representatives should not play politics
with women’s health. The bill’s introduction itself demonstrates that our
representatives are placing political goals over the importance of women’s
health and using unsubstantiated scientific claims to drive those goals.
LUKE
JACOBS
ISAIAH
ZEA
VIN-MOSS
My journal
represents me
figuring out aspects
of myself before
anybody else has to.
This bill showcases
the blatant
disregard of
definitive science.
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Daily for first-person accounts of sexual assault and
its corresponding personal, academic and legal
implications. Submission information can be found at
https://tinyurl.com/survivespeak.
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MICHELLE SHENG | MICHELLE CAN BE REACHED AT SHENGMI@UMICH.EDU